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"What did you send word to the princess that we weren't going

for?" the artist whispered hoarsely once more, still more

angrily, obviously exasperated that his voice failed him so that

he could not give his words the expression he would have liked

to.

"Oh, mercy on us! I thought we weren't going," his wife answered

crossly.

"What, when...." He coughed and waved his hand. The prince took

off his hat and moved away with his daughter.

"Ah! ah!" he sighed deeply. "Oh, poor things!"

"Yes, papa," answered Kitty. "And you must know they've three

children, no servant, and scarcely any means. He gets something

from the Academy," she went on briskly, trying to drown the

distress that the queer change in Anna Pavlovna's manner to her

had aroused in her.